<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>i think this time i’m dying by inniterz</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29621124">i think this time i’m dying</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/inniterz/pseuds/inniterz'>inniterz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Not Beta Read, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prison, just from tommy’s recent stream though, more hurt than comfort tbh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:54:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,489</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29621124</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/inniterz/pseuds/inniterz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn’t know where he was anymore.</p><p>"Tommy, come on, breathe with me."</p><p>Or, Tommy visits Dream in prison for the last time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sam | Awesamdude &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>361</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i think this time i’m dying</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy’s heart was beating painfully against his ribcage.</p><p>He couldn’t hear anything through the blood rushing in his ears. It felt like all rational thoughts had left his head at once, as soon as he saw the cell.</p><p>He could hear someone talking, in the distance, but he couldn’t focus, couldn’t make out what the person was saying - they were shouting, he could feel them shaking his shoulders, in an unsuccessful attempt at bringing him back from the far corners of his own mind.</p><p>He could feel nails digging in the tender skin of his arms, doing nothing to stop the numbness spreading in his very core, contrasting with the tremors steadily starting to buzz under his skin.</p><p>Hands tried to grasp his own, and he let out a weak shriek - a pitiful one, one that he didn’t hear through the panicked fog surrounding his brain. He scrambled back, swatting away the unwanted touch, and felt his back hitting cold obsidian, scratching painfully as he pressed into it, shrinking on himself - he wanted to disappear, he wanted to become one with the wall, he wanted to get out of this goddamn prison, he wanted to forget everything that happened, he wanted <i>out, out!</i></p><p>His scalp was stinging. He realized his hands were now buried into his hair, tugging on the strands, ripping them from his head. He was shaking violently, vision blurred from the tears that were prickling at the corners of his eyes. He could feel them slowly starting to roll on his cheeks, and soaking his shirt. He didn’t even try to wipe them - he was focusing so hard on trying to steady his breathing, on trying to even the shallow pants coming out of his mouth, and it wasn’t working, and it felt like he was dying, and he didn’t want to die here, out of all places.</p><p>
  <i>He didn’t want to die.</i>
</p><p>"-ommy? Tommy?"</p><p>He frantically shook his head, opening his mouth to speak, but the words stayed glued to his tongue. Through the thick film of tears obscuring his eyes, he could distinguish glowing netherite armor, he could see a green cre-</p><p>
  <i>Green.</i>
</p><p>The pounding in his skull increased, and he could hear someone screaming through the ringing in his ears - it was him, he was the one screaming, supplied a small part of his brain, the one that wasn’t consumed by complete terror right now.</p><p>Suddenly he was back in Logstedshire, suddenly Dream was in front of him - staring down at him, a hole being the only thing separating them. Suddenly he was taking off his armor, suddenly he was putting it in the hole, suddenly it was going up in flames, suddenly the sound of the explosion was colliding with his ears-</p><p>He couldn’t breathe, he was suffocating. He clawed at his throat, scrambling even further into the wall, even though he knew he couldn’t escape - Dream was always here, he was always watching, always two steps ahead of him.</p><p>He was back in Logstedshire, he was watching it being reduced to nothing with only a little bit of flint and steel - and really, it was his fault, he should’ve been better, he shouldn’t have hidden anything from Dream, he fucked up, as always, he always fucked up at some point. He deserved it, he should’ve told Dream - and now the damage was done, there was no coming back, he was going to have to rebuild it, all alone (<i>because Ghostbur wasn’t here to help. Ghostbur was hardly here anymore</i>).</p><p>"I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Dream, come on, you don’t have to do this-"</p><p>Another explosion. He squeezed his eyes shut - he didn’t know why he was pleading, because he knew it was useless, because <i>sorry doesn’t cut it, Tommy.</i></p><p>"Tommy? What are you talking about?"</p><p><i>It isn’t Dream’s voice</i>, whispered the helpful part of his brain.</p><p>His eyes shot open, and he tried to blink the tears away, trying to see who was in crouching in front of him - because it wasn’t Dream, it wasn’t his voice, it wasn’t him. </p><p>The tears wouldn’t stop falling.</p><p>He didn’t know where he was anymore. Was he in Logstedshire? Was he in Pandora’s Vault?</p><p>Was he in Techno’s house, hiding in a small, cramped box, hands clamped over his mouth to cover his ragged breathing, preventing Dream from hearing it, from hearing him, through the thin wooden panel?</p><p>Was he at the beach, sitting besides Dream, stuffing his mouth with cake and trying hard not to cry?</p><p>He didn’t know where he was anymore.</p><p>"Tommy, come on, breathe with me."</p><p>He could hear someone inhale deeply, and without thinking, he numbly copied them - or at least he tried to, only managing to gulp a short amount of air. Panic settled into his guts - he couldn’t do it, he just couldn’t do it, he was so pathetic, he couldn’t even <i>breathe</i>-</p><p>"Shh, it’s okay, it’s alright. There’s no rush, okay? We’ll go at your own pace, alright, Tommy?"</p><p>He nodded, and inhaled - held it, then exhaled. He repeated the process several times, and then his breathing began to calm down - and he slowly regained control over the distraught beating of his heart.</p><p>With trembling hands, he wiped the tears away, blood stained nails swiping across his dampened cheeks. The world wasn’t swaying anymore, he could discern vague forms, he could see the color of the obsidian, he could see the lines separating the blocks, he could see the orange glow of the lava reflecting on them-</p><p>
  <i>Lava.</i>
</p><p>"Dream isn’t here, Tommy."</p><p>He was in the prison. He came today to visit Dream, to end it all - he wasn’t going to visit anymore. Dream was going to rot into the prison forever, alone, because he deserved it. He deserved every second of it.</p><p>(<i>Sometimes he looked at Dream and saw himself, the Tommy he was so many weeks ago, the Tommy who stared at the lava and wanted to jump</i>).</p><p>His eyes focused on the green creeper mask, on the person who was kneeling in front of him, hands suspended in the air, as if they had wanted to touch him, but stopped in the middle of the action.</p><p>
  <i>Sam.</i>
</p><p>Sam was staring at him, and Tommy could feel the concern practically seeping from the warden.</p><p>"Better?"</p><p>The tone wasn’t judging, wasn’t disapproving - the voice wasn’t mocking. It was genuine, it wasn’t like the usual serious, monotonous voice Sam usually had. It was <i>kind</i>.</p><p>Tommy hadn’t felt kindness in a long time. He couldn’t help the warm feeling spreading in his chest, worming its way into every bone in his body. He nodded, opened his mouth, then closed it. His throat was parched, and he couldn’t utter a sound - oh god, what he wouldn’t do for a glass of water.</p><p>"Is it alright if I touch you?"</p><p>He nodded again. He felt hands touching his arm, taking his hand.</p><p>"Can you stand up? Good, good. We’re gonna get up together, alright?"</p><p>He was gently brought to his knees, and then hoisted to his feet. He almost tripped and fell from how hard he was shaking, but the hand held him in place - the hands didn’t feel invasive, they felt good against his sweating, hot skin, like a breath of cool air, like a sip of pure, clean, cold water. They felt comforting.</p><p>"Okay, now I’m getting you out of here, alright? Can you walk?"</p><p>He coughed.</p><p>"Y-yes. Please." He added quickly, gaze settling on Sam’s creeper mask, before involuntary flicking to the lava a few feet away from him. It traveled forward, forward, forward. He knew it was a mistake, he shouldn’t look at it again, it was going to send him into another panic attack-</p><p>The cell was empty.</p><p>Dream wasn’t here - he had been, he wasn’t here anymore. It felt like he just disappeared, out of thin air.</p><p>
  <i>How?</i>
</p><p>He didn’t know - his brain was too scrambled, too foggy right now to try and comprehend anything. He wanted to get out, get away from the prison, from its black stone, from its cold, unforgiving walls.</p><p>He started walking, Sam’s hand never leaving his arm, as he was dragged through the countless mechanisms of the vault. He was in a haze, vision tunneled, mind focused on the sole goal of getting out.</p><p>Dream could wait.</p><p>
  <i>Dream wasn’t going to wait. Dream was going to come back, fully armed, and it’ll be war again, and Tommy didn’t think he could handle all that again-</i>
</p><p>He felt the cold night breeze hit his face, the grass beneath his feet.</p><p>Dream could wait.</p><p>
  <i>Dream was going to come back, for him. He knew it - Dream simply couldn’t leave him alone, his favorite little puppet, a little puppet who gained too much control over the course of the last couple of weeks. And Dream couldn’t bear it, the controlling motherfucker, the green bastard - and he was going to come back.</i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>title from saline solution by wilbur, because i was listening to it while writing.</p><p>hello c! tommy enjoyers. how are we feeling tonight :)</p><p>i speedran this just after watching tommy’s stream (that’s why it has the canon divergence tag). i had the idea like yesterday - i went hey, what if tommy goes to visit dream and the mf is simply Gone.</p><p>sam is probably ooc in this, but again it’s because i can’t write dialogue at all.</p><p>it is two am, and i barely reread this, so excuse any error or grammatical mistake. this is my second fanfiction ever, and english isn’t my first language.</p><p>feel free to leave kudos nd comments, they warm my sad little heart :&gt;</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>